


They Were Dealt the Wrong Hand

by ForgottenChesire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Family Bonding, Gen, M/M, Meddling Valar, Nienna and Este and Vaire agree, Possible Fix it fic, Yavanna does not like the hand her Hobbits were dealt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yavanna loves her Hobbits and her Ents and if she could she would make sure they were always happy. But when she befriends two special Hobbits she determination to make them happy increases. Thankfully three fellow Valar Queens agree with her and the two are sent back in time. About two months before the Quest for Erebor to be exact. Vaire is going to have fun weaving this story and she's not going to hold Yavanna back if Aule's thick skulled children muck it up. Este just wants to heal the two fragile little cuties and Nienna is the Lady of Mercy and Compassion and is more than happy to help. Hopefully, this doesn't blow up in their faces.</p><p>
  <b>Has been rewritten and improved</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lay Your Weary Head Down

**Author's Note:**

> Another time-travel fic but with a twist:
> 
> Bilbo and Frodo go back in time to right before the quest, and Frodo, of course, goes with Bilbo on the quest. The two plan on destroying the ring after Erebor is reclaimed, but this time, Bilbo is the one who is going to carry the ring because he doesn’t want Frodo to go through that again. 
> 
> Frodo still insists on going with him to Mordor though. How does it change everything? Give me a close bond between Frodo and Bilbo where they are very close (like in the books), and are good friends but Bilbo can also be mother-henning to him. You could even make it a Bilbo/Frodo if you’re so inclined.
> 
> This was prompted to me by queenofshire405 on my tumblr and apparently it's also a prompt on live journal?  
> It won't be a romantic Bilbo/Frodo fic. It's Bagginshield and it might veer off the path of the prompt... maybe... And I'm fudging with the timelines cause Frodo and the other kids were born waaaaaaay after the Erebor adventure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yavanna will take care of those she cares about and she's not alone.

 

_Yavanna, Vala of all things green and growing, watches two Hobbits with a small, sad smile. They are her creations, just as the Ents are hers and she loves them as if they were born from her body and not from earth and grass and flowers. The fact that these two tiny beings carried the greatest evil ever to grace Middle Earth is a mere footnote, an added bonus of pride. They deserve rest, she tells herself as she watches them in her Garden, rest that is available here. A chuckle escapes her as one nearly face plants as he tries to spread out a blanket one handed. Here in Valinor, you become the age you were the happiest and the young one; the one balanced oh so securely on one hip, the one with thick curly hair and adventure seeking young eyes, the one sucking on his hand, **Frodo** , switches between ages. Today is a young day, a day where Bilbo, the older one, the one who bears a heavy heart, the one who wants to cry but can't, the one who stays comfortably at fifty, gets the joy of babying him. She takes them in, knowing that it will take time for their bodies to heal, little Frodo is still missing his ring finger, and even longer for their **souls** to heal. It's not fair, her Hobbits did not deserve the hand they were dealt even if they played it admirably._

  


_Her smile widens just a bit when Bilbo looks up, spotting her standing there and beckons her over, beckons her to join them. She walks over to them, calmly though her heart soars at the easiness of the gesture. When they first landed, old, broken, lost, pain filled, neither of them would meet her eyes. Too shy, too new to seeing the Valar up close... Though, she remembers with a smile as she takes the reaching Frodo from Bilbo, Frodo had a habit of wandering off and exploring the lands, listening almost afraid to the stories told between Valar and Bilbo, Bilbo could be caught making aborted movements to cross from her Garden to her husband's Mountain. She pushes those thoughts away, tucking them away in the back of her mind, as Bilbo finishes spreading the blanket. A sense of contentedness and pride settles on her as she has elevensies with her Hobbit children. It's relaxing and she feels her shoulders go lax at the idle chatter that she exchanges with Bilbo. Then Frodo looks up from his food and asks around a mouthful:_

  


“ _Uncle Bilbo, can you tell me da story wid da Dwarrows again?”_

  


_Bilbo laughs, gathering up Frodo onto his lap where he proceeds to tickle the younger Hobbit's side._

  


“ _You shouldn't talk with your mouthful,” he scolds over the squealing laughs Frodo lets out, “Besides Frodo lad, our guest may not want to hear it.”_

  


_Yavanna lets out a very unladylike like snort that turns into a cough when Frodo lets out a shocked gasp. The black haired lad turns to her with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip._

  


“ _You don't wanna hear da Dwarrow story?” he asks and she cups his face gently placing a kiss on his forehead._

  


“ _I would love to hear this story Frodo.”_

  


_Frodo brightens and turns expectantly to his uncle, little hands clapping and body bouncing. Bilbo changes like magic, or perhaps he merely spins it as he tells his tale. Each person gets their own voice and he never mixes them up. It's enchanting to watch the emotion flow on Bilbo's face and behind his eyes though half of his captivated audience falls asleep shortly after the troll scene. Frodo's head rests on Bilbo's shoulder, delicate snores rumble and cause the two awake to share a laugh. Yavanna can sense his hesitancy to keep going and gives him a small nudge._

  


“ _Feel free to finish it,” she whispers. The rest of the story doesn't flow like the first, it's broken by long pauses and held in sobs, once flawless hand motions become jerky, Bilbo doesn't need to be strong with Frodo asleep._

  


“ _I-I just miss them, miss **him** , so much,” Bilbo admits once the story is done. He is squeezing Frodo to him, eyes red and puffy as he gazes off. Yavanna watches as he sniffles silently, not needing to ask who the 'them' he speaks of are. She remembers the searching, hopeful eyes, the whispered words Bilbo thought no one could hear, saw his face fell. Slowly she reaches out and brings them both into her lap, pale green hands cradling them to her. Sometimes her youngest children are cursed with hearts belonging to her husband's children. And really it wouldn't be a curse if they weren't as stubborn as their father. She kisses the top of Bilbo's head._

  


“ _I know Bilbo. Oh, I know,” she sighs softly beginning to rock. Absent-mindedly she sings, soft and low and sweet in Hobbitish lulling Bilbo to sleep. She looks down at them, at the slowly healing souls that call out to her, at the bodies that tell their own stories. Surely there has to be something she can do. They are hers and she knows them. Is it wrong to want to help them? Can she? Her face gets a determined set to it as each thought passes through her mind._

  


“ _Oh no, I know that look,” a lilting voice snaps her out of her plotting. Standing in front of her are three of her fellow Queens. The one who spoke, who is tilting her head and smiling, the one with gray eyes filled with sympathy, is Nienna._

  


“ _The last time she got that look was when she went to Eru to get the Hobbits created,” chimes Este at Nienna's left. Vaire, who stands on the left nods._

  


“ _You refused to take no for an answer,” Vaire says as they sit down, the three chuckling softly as they band together._

  


“ _So we know you are planning something and we want to help,” Este says after some time of silence and watching the Hobbits sleep. The Healer reaches out and grabs Frodo's hand, rubbing the joint where his ring finger should be._

  


“ _Some tapestries need to be rewoven,” Vaire says almost flippantly with mischief shining in her eyes. It startles a laugh out of Yavanna._

  


“ _Thank you,” she breathes out._

* * *

  


Bilbo wakes slowly, his hazel eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as he takes in the ceiling above him. How did he get from the Garden to inside... Oh, how he desperately hopes that the Lady did not carry him... Wait a moment... That crack... it looks like the crack in his master bedroom, the one that gave him many a sleepless night worried that it would grow and reach something load bearing. He tries to shift only to stop when a weight registers. A grin slips across his face at the sight of his nephew, appearing to be around twenty-five, curled up like a cat upon his arm. Then Frodo's face scrunches up, looking so young as he wakes. Blue eyes dart about in confusion, noticing no doubt the change in scenery because the master bedroom of Bag End is most certainly not Yavanna's Garden. And though Bilbo doubted the Wizard had anything to do with this, Bilbo blamed Gandalf for whatever is going on.

 


	2. Settling in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two Baggins start to settle in

Bilbo likes to pride himself on being resilient. One doesn't survive eleventy-one years without some kind of resilience not counting the grand adventures he has had. But the transition from being in Valinor to being back in Bag End is jarring. He isn't proud to admit that the first few days he felt absolutely abandoned and hurt, questioning Yavanna's love for them. Wondering if maybe they had done something wrong. And why send them back to the Shire? Then Frodo brought him his calendar, like any respectable Hobbit his is filled with crossed out dates and important information written in neat little boxes. And so with physical proof of the date the next emotion to strike Bilbo, like a sword to the gut without a mithril shirt to stop it, is almost blinding. _Two months,_ his mind whispers frantically, _two months until thirteen Dwarrows and a Wizard show up on your doorstep._ Needless to say that Bilbo begins to hyperventilate. He can't go do it, he can't go through that again. Tears well up in Bilbo's eyes as he slides down to the ground gripping the hair at his temples. The first time had nearly killed him, he can't go through it again.

  


Frodo hates the helpless feeling that descends upon him as he watches his beloved uncle break down, calendar forgotten beside him. He wants to help but he isn't sure how. Merry was the one who handled Pippin, the more emotional of his friends and Sam, Sam just needed someone there beside him in his mopey periods. So he draws on hazy memories of Bilbo comforting him and hopes he is doing it right as he hugs Bilbo to him. Being younger and just a tad shorter than his uncle proves to be useful as Bilbo rests his head on Frodo's. Once they are both comfortable and Frodo is sure that his uncle isn't about to move away he raises a hand and runs it through Bilbo's hair, whispering soothing nothings. After all the year and the date aren't lost on Frodo. He knows what, or who will be showing up... At least, this time, his uncle won't be the only hobbit on an adventure. He waits-- wisely he snorts later-- until Bilbo is calm and sipping on a cup of tea to bring up the fact he wants to go because there is no way he is just going to sit back. And really Bilbo should have expected that just as he should have expected Bilbo's vehement rejection and the incurring fight. It's loud and hurtful words are exchanged, flaws pointed out and laid t bear. It ends when he lets out a frustrated sigh and throws his hands in the air before retreating to his room.

  


Seeing the room that was once his, filled with books and mementos, as an impersonal guest room knocks the air out of his lungs. It hammers in the fact that he shouldn't be here, he hasn't been born yet, he parents are still alive and there hasn't been a need for his uncle to open his home to a silent, sullen orphan. The room spins, and he wishes that he hadn't spent those first few days sleeping in the master bedroom with Bilbo so that this unpleasant shock could have happened earlier. The implications of this reality are hitting home; Sam, Merry, Pippin, they aren't born yet. It will be thirteen years before Sam is born... _His_ Sam isn't born yet. Bilbo finds him some time later, still sitting, still lost and sad, just staring out the wide window in his room. Frodo jolts slightly as Bilbo sits down next to him, arm going around his shoulder.

  


“I-I'm sorry lad, I shouldn't have yelled at you. But the thought of you on this adventure...on any adventure if I'm being truthful... I can't lose you, my boy, I can't,” Bilbo says softly, the hand not holding his shoulder reaches out and grabs his hand and looks pointedly at the missing finger.

  


“And I can't lose you. I can help Uncle, I can. I may not be of age yet but I'm smart and I know how to fight.”

  


Bilbo hesitates, Frodo can see that Bilbo wants to say something about his fighting ability but the older Hobbit swallows it and bites his lower lip. Frodo getting hurt again is the last thing Bilbo wants, not for him, not on this blast quest that ends the lives of three people close to him and he doesn't plan on waiting years, on getting soft and handing off the Ring... And knowing Frodo the lad will want to help with _that_ monster of a quest as well. He comes to a decision.

  


“I carry the Ring entirely this time.”

  


“Uncle, no,” Frodo tries to protest.

  


“Then you can't come! I won't allow it to destroy you, to break you again! I won't, it's my fault you had the dratted thing to begin with,” Bilbo says forcefully before deflating and giving him a stubborn but remorseful look. They stare each other down, as stubborn as Dwarrows they are.

  


“I will still be able to go with you to Mordor?” Frodo asks with narrowed eyes. Bilbo nods his head, it's a fair compromise in his mind. This way the Ring won't reach Frodo as badly and he can keep an eye on the younger who will be able to show him the way.

  


“Alright then. It's a deal?”

  


“It's a deal,” Bilbo promises. With that settled Bilbo grins just slightly. Because the hardest part is halfway over and now he just has to convince the Dwarrows to take Frodo al- The Dwarrows, his pantry, his mother's glory box!

  


“We have much to do and little time to do it,” he mutters, “And a story on how you came to come here. The cousins who children would call me uncle don't have any and you can't be my son... The ages don't quite line up.”

* * *

  


“ _Vaire... I don't think we thought this through very well,” Yavanna frets as she watches her two most beloved. Their pain had been her pain but this is for the best. It has to be._

  


“ _I don't think we did either but it's a bit late for second guessing,” Vaire agrees with a shrug._

  


“ _Do you think **they**_ _will notice? I mean isn't one of your tapestries going to be missing?” Este asks, her eyes locked on Frodo. She's the one she's worried most about. His love hadn't died before the romance could blossom, instead, social demands had snuffed it out and that along with the Ring's influence left a mark on him. Vaire makes a face at Este._

  


“ _I hadn't thought that far ahead but Mandos doesn't pay too much attention to them... Unless a new one just pops up and technically one isn't missing, it's just not as long,” she says, “So hopefully he won't be too mad...”_

  


“ _Hmm, maybe we can get your husband in on this Este. He's decent at placating his brother isn't he?” Nienna asks. Este snorts gracefully, something Yavanna envies slightly._

  


“ _Oh yes, let's get Irmo, the biggest gossip ever, in on this. Might as well ask Aule! No way our little project will get noticed by Manwe if we do that,” she says playfully. The others giggle._

  


“ _Good point.”_

  



	3. A Surprise Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just short little tidbit for you guys. Lobelia comes over and Frodo receives a shock.

In the end, they decide to stick rather close to the truth, a half lie if you will, is best. This, of course, means that Frodo is a cousin, not a nephew, of a distantly related Brandybuck who married a Baggins. His parents had caught a nasty cold that turned into more and they sent Frodo to live with Bilbo fearing the worst as they weren't the most well off family. A perfectly Respectable and believable reason for Bilbo to suddenly gain an heir. It's happened before in Shire history, for a well-off Hobbit to take in a less well off child to be their heir. It normally meant that the older one wasn't _right_ and was happy to remain unmarried. And that was what Bilbo was to a 'T' and to add even more believability Bilbo fondly tells the first Hobbit they tell the tale that Frodo is too much of a Brandybuck for the other Baggins and too much of a Baggins for the Brandybucks. They don't have to tell too many Hobbits the story and it takes about two weeks, two rather busy weeks at that, for anyone to inquire about it more deeply. And the person who does throws Frodo into another loop.

  
  


“Too much of a Brandybuck, eh? Does that mean you are trying to turn him into a Took?” _Lobelia Sackville-Baggins_ asks playfully. _Playfully_. Frodo can't help but to stare at the woman trying to connect this smiling woman to the shrew who hounded after to be more Respectable, the woman Bilbo often compared to a Dragon, a woman Frodo was sure was made of pure evil for the longest time. And yet... here she is, _smiling_ , and holding onto a squirming Lotho. Pudgy little Lotho who is so much cuter than the Pimple he remembers. Frodo gets so lost in his memories, in his thoughts, in trying to realign everything that he almost misses Bilbo's response.

  
  


“How do you know I'm not trying to turn him into a proper Baggins?”

  
  


Lobelia snorts.

  
  


“Because my dear, you _aren't_ a proper Baggins.”

  
  


And there, there is a spot of old Lobelia but this one has a playful tilt of her head and a quirk of her lips to take the sting out of her words. Bilbo puffs up, making Lotho laugh and clap his hands, ready to defend his “honor.”

  
  


“I am so a proper Baggins!”

  
  


“Please, Bilbie, who talked me and Hammie into searching the woods for Elves? Who planned most of our raids? Who convinced us to hoard anything yellow because it was gold and would bring us Dwarves? Who had that cr-”

  
  


Bilbo moves quickly, slapping his hand over Lobelia's mouth.

  
  


“Alright, you win!” he says with a laugh before he shrieks and yanks his hand away. He makes a grossed out face and wipes his hand on his vest, “That Belia just isn't fair.”

  
  


“Don't put your hand over my mouth then Bilbie dear.”

  
  


Frodo watches them feeling oh so confused. Did he wake up in a completely different world? This... This isn't the Lobelia he knows. As if sensing his confusion and almost panic Lobelia begins to laugh.

  
  


“I think we broke your cousin. He's so used to being down in Buckland and dealing with their craziness that he missed out on our insanity. That we were once best of buds.”

  
  


“Until you married Fusspot and he turned you Sackville Respectable,” Bilbo says with an air of sadness cluing Frodo in that there may be more that he doesn't know about Lobelia. The woman in question sighs and shakes her head.

  
  


“He hasn't gotten that far, nor do I think he really wants me like that. After all, he knows that I come here for visits, even with the silly Respectable excuses, and doesn't put up much of a fuss. I just have to pretend to be a shrew,” she says as her smile turns tight as does her grip on Lotho who in turn squirms harder. The little boy makes grabby at Frodo who makes sure it's okay for him to grab the younger boy. Holding Lotho in his arms it's hard to believe that this boy will grow up to be Pimple. Will cause so much pain. The baby smiles and Frodo smiles back, he likes this Lotho and maybe things will change and this Lotho won't break his mother's heart... And maybe Sam's brother's will be different too. Frodo walks off with Lotho, speaking to the boy softly and lets Bilbo and Lobelia have some time alone to talk. When it comes time for them to leave Frodo almost doesn't want to give Lotho to his mother and Lobelia promises that they will both be back before the end of the month. Bilbo watches them leave sadly.

  
  


“You know my boy, I think the fact that she allowed her husband to auction off so much of my stuff was because I missed so many of our teas. It was her way of letting off steam and letting me know she did not approve of her escape from her mother-in-law being taken away,” Bilbo says slowly as if tasting each word then he laughs in an unpleasant way, “She wasn't always as... harsh as you remember her. Otho and his mother, they changed her when Fell Winter didn't.”

  
  


Bilbo shakes himself, as if shaking bad thoughts away, his smile returns but it's so clearly fake that it makes Frodo flinch.

  
  


“Come on lad, we have things that need to be done.”


	4. Important Questions Are Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some very important questions are asked and preparations are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The questions raised by Frodo are some that I thought of as I was writing. In The Tale Of Two Time Traveling Hobbits, she explains it one way that makes since. If you haven't read it I'm gonna spoil it for you. The one who was supposed to be born is never born. Anyways here's you an update I hope ya like it! Life has been a real life sucker. I promise I not abandoning any of my fic's I just take a long time to update sometimes.

After the rather unsettling revaluation that Lobelia wasn't always the cruel harpy that loved to choose him as a victim the rest of the month and a half that they had to prepare is rather uneventful. They stock the pantry, change out the good carpets for ones that are easier to clean, moved Belladonna's glory box to the master bedroom and they went to Bree to get swords made. Frodo feared that the blacksmith would laugh them away because of the time restraint. Instead, the blacksmith, who only took them seriously when Bilbo in a fit of exasperation yelled he was a Took on a mission thank you very much, was insulted that they thought it would take longer for two Hobbit-sized swords to be made. In fact, it's not until two days before Gandalf and the Dwarrows come that anything of note happens, if what happens counts as something to note. Because by then the “random” encounters with Lobelia and Lotho, for tea or not, is no longer shocking nor noteworthy. No, what knocks Frodo from his nice little bubble of chaotic calm is simply seeing Gaffer, _Hamfast, he's just Hamfast now_ , trying to stop his fretting as his wife is close to giving birth to their first child by puttering around his garden. Gaffer who looks so much like an older Sam that it hurts. It causes an ache deep in his heart and it brings on a panic attack. Thankfully the panic attack is when he is alone in his room, alone with his thoughts and everything crashes down on him with the visual reminder. _His_ Sam won't be born for a while now, not until after the Adventure at the very least. But... What about him, or the Frodo who shall be? Will that Frodo still be born, or will his parents, are they still his parents, be childless? If the Frodo that shall be is born will _that_ Frodo be the one who Sam will follow around, be the one that Sam will smile at, the one who Sam will lo- No... No, he can't let his mind wander down that path. He can't think about being forced to watch as Sam listens to someone who is him but not teaches him about Elves. He can't think about the shy smiles of a young one who understands but doesn't understand the meaning behind the flowers he offers. He can't think about what could have been if he had been braver if he hadn't been broken by the Ring. There are bigger things to worry about. First, he has to worry about the mountain with its Dragon and its Gold Sickness. Then he will worry about the Ring and keeping his Uncle sane. Only when Middle Earth is no longer in trouble will he worry over Sam. Having a clear goal helps calm down his breathing and orient himself.

  


Bilbo, on the other hand, feels as if he is barely holding on. Calm is not a word in his vocabulary at the moment though he makes sure not to show it... too much anyways. The constant cooking and cleaning and fretting is a clear indication that he isn't ready. Oh, Yavanna above he simply isn't ready! What on Middle Earth made him think this was a good idea! How will he be able to keep from treating them as the friends they are to him? How will he keep from feeding Dwalin cookies and giving Ori books and Oin herbs and he just... He cries in his mind as he makes up his will, as he writes letters to Drogo and Hamfast and Lobelia and even one to Fortinbras, not wanting his cousin and Thain to worry. With those written and nothing else to do lest he draw Gandalf's suspicions, he falls back into cooking and fretting. For the most part, Frodo finds it almost amusing to see his Uncle act like a nesting Hobbit, rumors even start to spread as the smial begins to fill with the scent of warm food until Bilbo turns his fretting on to him. _We won't be having seven meals a day anymore. I was used to it once-_ _ **So was I Uncle**_ _\- but now I've gone and gotten fat again... How is your hand?_ _ **It's fine Uncle really**_ _\- Why don't I go and see if I can find some_ _Athelas just in case?_ _ **Uncle**_ _-_ and so it goes. It takes Frodo sitting Bilbo down with a cuppa splashed with brandy and assuring him that not only is he fine, and honestly he had completely forgotten that he was even missing a finger, but everything would be fine. Bilbo takes a deep breath and chuckles at himself.

  


“Sorry.”

  


Frodo waves away the apology and leans into Bilbo's side. Later after the tea has been drank and Bilbo is puffing on a pipe of Longbottom leaf Frodo asks a question.

  


“Will you shoo Gandalf away again or will you say yes right away?”

  


Bilbo blows a few smoke rings as he thinks.

  


“I think I will say no but invite him and any he tricked into coming with him to dinner,” he after some thought. It's a good Baggins response that gives Gandalf the illusion that he will wake the Took in him. Oh, Bag End will be filled with merry sounds again that it missed for so long.

* * *

  


“ _Do you think we-”_

  


“ _No! No, Nienna we are not sending another Hobbit back,” Vaire says with a hint of hysteria. She hadn't thought about the possibility of **two** Frodos running about. Not only will that cause another tapestry to appear but it will alert her husband that something is up. What will happen to the Frodo that should be? Why are her tapestries being annoyingly resistant to her searching? And Sam! The love between those two is a favorite between all the Queens. Yavanna watches everything with a calm that surprises herself. Everything will go well. Even if the adorable, blooming romance between Frodo and the gardener is put off... or doesn't happen at all. Thirty-eight years isn't much of a difference to a Dwarf or Elf but... even with the Hobbits lengthy life Sam would end up a young Widower... Este wrings her hands and frowns, surely sending **one** more Hobbit back wouldn't hurt... Right? Especially if it would help heal... No... Bad Este!_


	5. Once more yes?

Frodo watches the meeting between Bilbo and Gandalf from inside Bag End like a curious fauntling up past his bedtime. Like many things have been since they have woken in the past seeing Gandalf once more is disconcerting. He's no longer Gandalf the White but Gandalf the Gray again. Frodo knows he probably shouldn't get as much pleasure from Gandalf puffing up at Bilbo's good morning and subsequent banter, Bilbo is holding back as he knows Gandalf better than the Wizard knows him for now, but he can't help the happiness at seeing them together again.

  
  


“I am a Baggins of Bag End, Gandalf. I don't have time to go off on adventures, but as I am in fact a Baggins it would be very rude of me to just turn you away. So you and whatever company you have dragged here may have supper here tonight... and even sleep here... And if, _if_ , you must you may leave a mark on my door so that can find me,” Bilbo says, quips, opening his door and signaling the end of the conversation. With a smile, he looks over his shoulder, “Good morning.”

  
  


With that Bilbo enters his smial and shuts the door. _And that is that_ , the older Hobbit thinks as he slides down the door. His shaking hands reach up to tug on his hair and he laughs hysterically. Oh Yavanna above he has just invited thirteen Dwarrows and a Wizard into his home! Thirteen! Frodo crouches down in front of Bilbo, gently taking the shaking hands into his steady ones.

  
  


“You did it.”

  
  


“Aye, I did... barely mind you but I did. Now to get the food warmed up and the table moved to the hall,” Bilbo says once he has calmed down, confidence slowly building in his voice.

  
  


Frodo is almost vibrating with excitement as it gets closer to supper time so when the first knock sounds for the night he beats his uncle to it. He swings it open and smiles politely at the Dwarf.

  
  


“Dwalin, at your service,” the Dwarf says with a bow.

  
  


“Frodo Baggins, at yours and your family's,” Frodo responds remembering the Dwarrow etiquette that Gimli taught them after the war, “Please do come in.”

  
  


He ushers in Dwalin not noticing the slightly stunned look on the bald Dwarf's face. Once the door is closed and the larger weapons are placed on the designated table he takes a few steps toward the kitchen.

  
  


“Cousin Bilbo!” Oh isn't that weird to say, “The first one is here!”

  
  


There is a crash that has Frodo and Dwalin hurrying the rest of the way to the kitchen. Bilbo is muttering lowly under his breath in Hobbitish, cleaning up bits of the broken dish.

  
  


“It's alright lad, just a clay plate that I dropped by accident... So the first one is here?” he asks standing up. Frodo nods and gestures to Dwalin. Bilbo takes a mental breath, Dwalin son of Fundin, best friend and cousin of Thorin. A good Dwarf and a good friend once you gain his trust, or you share a loss. He forces himself to speak ignoring the ache.

  
  


“Welcome, Master Dwarf. Bilbo Baggins at your service.”

  
  


“Dwalin, at yours and your family's Master Baggins,” Dwalin says with an incline of his head.

  
  


“Just Bilbo is fine. There is food in the hallway. We didn't know how many Gandalf was going to bring but as it is Gandalf,” Bilbo trails off and chuckles, “it was best to be prepared.”

  
  


Frodo grins as Bilbo begins to ramble who ignores him continuing his tale of the history of the Disturber of the Peace. Frodo, of course, takes pity on Dwalin and leads the overwhelmed Dwarf to the food.

  
  


“Do you think it's enough?” he asks curiously, he always wondered how the Dwarrows would have acted had dinner been prepared beforehand.

  
  


“Aye... but where ye expecting to feed an army?”

  
  


“No, we just wanted to make sure no one went hungry,” Frodo says simply leaving Dwalin with the food. There is still more to be made after all.

  
  


And so begins the most hectic life of Bilbo Baggins' life... again.


	6. Diner With A Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so all the Dwarrows are here, well mostly. I'm not sure if I'm going to write out like the entire movie/book then do my own thing with the two boys and the nasy icky Precious but I'll figure that out as I go. Hope you like!

Bilbo moves around the Dwarrows like a hummingbird, a habit he takes to when he's worried or isn't quite sure what to do in a situation... or apparently trying not to treat people like old friends. Frodo snorts and shakes his head. The Dwarrows manners are terrible, Gimli must have gotten his from his mother. _Though_ , Frodo thinks glancing over at Gloin. _He got his silver tongue and long-windedness from his father._ Gloin had cornered him earlier in the night to wax poetic about his wife and has been the only one out of the new arrivals to seek him out to talk. The others stare at him curiously. Gandalf has been too busy staring at Bilbo like he is a puzzle to notice anything, It makes Frodo wonder if the flitting that Bilbo is doing is a trait he learned from one of his parents. Of course during the intense focus on Bilbo, Gandalf manages to fail to notice that Fili and Kili have snatched his pipe, mainly to see if it is the pipe that caused the wild smoke rings the Wizard was blowing earlier.

  
  


It's chaos and part of him is loving it, the other part is wishing the others were with him. Merry and Pippin would have loved this. He's thinking of all the ways his two troublemaking cousins would have gotten into mischief when he spots Bifur and he's drawn into watching the miner's hands move as he talks to his family. It gets him lost in memories of Sam and how that was a way the gardener bonded with the Dwarf. He nearly does what Gandalf did and get too focused on one thing and if he wasn't a Hobbit who grew up with Tooks and Brandybucks he would have missed the twin shadows flanking him. Fili and Kili have grown tired of Gandalf's pipe and stop short in surprise that their victim noticed them. Whatever mischief they had planned is placed on the back burner, like true trouble makers they are able to improvise thus they grin in sync.

  
  


“Fili-”

  
  


“and Kili-”

  
  


“At your service,” they introduce themselves with a dramatic bow. It takes a moment for Frodo to get his breath back as the two remind him so much of his cousin that he gets an upfront account of why Bilbo often called them the Princes' names. Like a true Baggins, he pushes all that aside and bows back.

  
  


“Frodo Baggins at you-”

  
  


That is of course when Gandalf notices him.

  
  


“I didn't know you had a son Bilbo,” the old Wizard says in surprise. Fights back a snort when the Man starts to pat his pockets clearly looking for something.

  
  


“He's not my son Gandalf, he's my cousin. I've taken him in since his parents are gone and he is below majority. Things have changed since the last time you visited.”

  
  


A few of the Dwarrows snort and Gloin gives the Wizard a disapproving look, why Frodo isn't sure. Ori, who had been looking around the smial lost, trying to find the kitchen and therefore hadn't heard the exchange comes up to Bilbo. Frodo bites his lip at the knowing dread building on Bilbo's face.

  
  


“Excuse me... but what shall I do with my plate?”

  
  


Fili swoops in.

  
  


“Give it here Ori!”

  
  


Bilbo sighs playfully and says the words that cause the Dwarrows to burst into song. Frodo laughs loudly, singing along with them while Bilbo shakes his head. At the end of the song, there are three loud probably door rattling knocks on the door. _Thorin_ , Frodo thinks in awe but watching Bilbo pale he frowns. Then he remembers. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain and the... only... person... Oh Yavanna above.

  
  


“He's here,” Gandalf speaks in the same tone as he did in Moria, which frankly, Frodo thinks is majorly over dramatic. It's a Dwarf, not a Balrog.

  
  


“Well whoever he is he doesn't need to pound so hard,” Bilbo says forcing a slightly grumpy sound to it. He also ignores the snickers his choice of words gets him.

  
  


“I guess I better let him in before he breaks the door down...”

 


	7. He's Arrived

As Bilbo walks up to his door he's sure he can handle this. He handled seeing Fili and Kili; surely seeing Thorin will be easy. It's not like anything happened between them-- just some intense longing on Bilbo's part. So with a deep inhale Bilbo puts on a proper Baggins glare and opens the door. Any certainty he had goes out the window when he actually sees Thorin. Long curly black hair that begs Bilbo to run his hands through, striking blue eyes that stare off into the distance,-- and most importantly alive. Thorin is alive and standing before him again. And because his mind loves to torture him when it comes to Thorin it drags up memories of Thorin on ice, of holding Thorin's hand begging him to stay, feeling Thorin's last breath, the past that may become the future over Bilbo's very dead body. He can feel his body start to shake at the memories and Bilbo curses his emotions-- especially when he feels the urge to cry. Instead, he clears his throat politely to get Thorin's attention. He can do polite, polite is safe, polite is Respectable and Respectable is distant... It works until the oaf of a Dwarf pushes his way in without so much as a hello. Oh yes... Thorin was a complete arse at first wasn't he? Bilbo thinks with growing despair.

  
  


“I thought you said this place was easy to find Gandalf. I got lost-- twice,” Thorin snarks at the Wizard as Bilbo closes the door.

  
  


Frodo who had followed the gaggle of Dwarrows to the front hall frowns in confusion.

  
  


“How do you get lost in Hobbiton?” he mutters. It's not like Hobbiton is a large Man city, its sprawling but easy to navigate. But maybe he thinks like that because he's lived here for so long. He feels a bit thrown as well because Bilbo never mentioned Thorin getting lost. The King Under the Mountain arrived last, standing majestically over the group that fell through Bilbo's door, that is how his Uncle introduced Thorin. Subtly he glances over at Bilbo wondering what else the older Hobbit changed in his retelling. He catches Bilbo giving him a disapproving look for his lack of tact and shrugs, Thorin either didn't hear him or is ignoring it as he continues on.

  
  


“If it wasn't for the mark on the door I wouldn't have found it at all.”

  
  


Frodo just stares at the King at that. Bag End is on of the biggest smials in Hobbiton, on one of the biggest... Before he can say anything that would make Pippin proud of him Bilbo speaks up.

  
  


“Well then it's a good thing that I told Gandalf to put it there then,” Bilbo raises an eyebrow and nods when Thorin's attention is back on him, “I am Bilbo Baggins and that is my cousin Frodo.”

  
  


There is an unspoken _who are you?_ at the end of the sentence, a Hobbit way of saying you are being enormously rude. Thorin-- after looking Bilbo up and down with a sniff-- doesn't help the rude thing and should be glad that no other Hobbit is there.

  
  


“Thorin Oakenshield, leader of this quest. Now tell me Hobbit, sword or axe?”

  
  


Bilbo gives a slight smile.

  
  


“I prefer conkers myself, if you must know, but I am rather nifty with a sword,” the older Hobbit says giving a sniff of his own.

  
  


“Same,” Frodo pipes up, ignoring that the last time he used a sword it was to threaten Sam. The looks of surprise on both Gandalf and Thorin's faces almost cause a laugh to bubble out of Frodo's throat be he manages to keep it in.

  
  


“A pleasant surprise then. Because you look more like a grocer than a burglar.”


	8. Almost Out

Frodo scowls as hr brings a plate of food to Thorin. He grew up on tales of Thorin Oakenshield and uncle Bilbo always painted the Dwarf king in such a fond and majestic; so this rude, insulting, easily lost Dwarf throws him. It's stupid, he knows, uncle told him that it took a long time for the Dwarrows to warm up to him the first time. Mirkwood was the first time he felt included enough to allow himself to think of them as friends. But this... This is startling bad to Frodo, Gimli hadn't been this standoffish to him, it has to be worse for Bilbo who has memories of them as friends. But uncle just smiles his tight smile and carries on. With a huff that catches Bilbo's attention for a second Frodo retreats. He doesn't go far, just far enough to get him away from the main bulk of the Dwarrows, far enough that he is free to clench his hands and mutter under his breath freely. A little while later a voice speaks up, though not the one he is expecting.

  
  


“Your cousin can give as good as he takes,” there is an awed tone to the voice and Frodo laughs. He looks out toward the gaggle in the hallway and sees his uncle talking to Gandalf-- Thorin looks put out which means it was probably the king that got treated to Bilbo's Tookish side-- and nods. Nori, the Dwarf who spoke and arguably the quietest walker out of the group is standing behind him. The ginger Dwarf is staring at Bilbo like he is a puzzle to solve.

  
  


“He should be able to, considering who he's friends with,” Frodo tells the Dwarf who tilts his head.

  
  


“Oh?”

  
  


“Aye, tongue sharper than a freshly forged blade she has,” the words slip out of his mouth like water from a hole. Gimli had once said that about an aged and slightly manic Lobelia. The Dwarf had heard about the invasion and came to offer his help, only to be met with a brolly to his face and Lobelia's form of tact. Pippin loved the saying from the first time he heard it and taught it to his son who then taught it to the other fauntlings. Nori doesn't say about a Hobbit using a Dwarrow expression, merely raises one weirdly to Frodo eyebrow.

  
  


“I think I'd like to meet this she then,” the Dwarf says after a moment of thought.

  
  


“Meet you?”

  
  


Frodo jumps, thankful that Nori does as well meaning that he wasn't the only one to get caught up in the conversation. Nori, Frodo notes, has his hand hovering over his side where a weapon is most likely hidden. Bilbo laughs softly at them before looking a bit sheepish.

  
  


“Sorry, sorry. But seriously who were you two gossiping hens talking so intently about?”

  
  


“Lobelia.”

  
  


“Belia?” Bilbo asks playfully shocked, “Why on Middle Earth are you so eager to get knots beaten into your hide?”

  
  


Frodo laughs at Bilbo's dramatic shiver and Nori even cracks a smile.

  
  


“Anyways, _His majesty_ wants everyone gathered.”

  
  


Nori's eyes light up with a gleam when he hears the slight sarcasm in Bilbo's voice-- which Frodo knows is how Bilbo copes with stress when he can't flit about-- it's a gleam both Hobbits know well. He'll be like a dog with a bone or a Brandybuck who feels honor-bound.

  
  


“After you Master Baggins,” Nori says theatrically and Bilbo shakes his head muttering that 'Bilbo really is fine you confounded Dwarf'. They rejoin the main group and whatever discussion that stopped while Bilbo fetched them restarts. Bilbo plays the Respectable host until his status as a burglar comes up which is when he hums softly.

  
  


“I'm a bit out of practice really... If you consider stealing pies from windowsills or raiding Farmer Maggots fields burgling,” he says, which is a major understatement as the Arkenstone was the last thing he ever 'stole'-- though he still firmly believes that he **didn't** steal it, it was his thirteenth of the treasure. Thorin's face turns an interesting shade of red.

  
  


“Do you think this is a game? Do you mock our quest?”

  
  


“No,” Bilbo says shortly, “To be perfectly honest I think this is a suicide mission. And so do the rest of your kin else they'd be backing you instead of leaving you with just twelve Dwarrows. So you need anyone willing to help... And I believe I am willing unless I cannot bring a nephew.” _And if you say no the confounded boy will just follow us anyways_ , Bilbo thinks ruefully. Their agreement isn't one that Bilbo is particularly proud of.

  
  


“He's underage!” Gloin protests loudly and Thorin stares down Bilbo.

  
  


“Why should I allow him to come?”

  
  


“Because he isn't the only one under majority,” here Bilbo's eyes jump to Fili, Kili, and Ori, “And because my duty to him comes before all else. I won't leave him alone, if he comes I can keep an eye on him and he can help.”

  
  


They stare at each other, tension rising to a near choking level. Frodo rolls his eyes in despair. _Pulling pigtails is childish Frodo. You don't act mean to those you like Frodo. You don't denounce the intelligence of those around you, even veiled remarks. For Yavanna's sake Frodo,_ _ **no**_ _you cannot push fellows into the river just because they_ _d_ _isagreed with Sam and made him cry!_ Frodo snarks in his mind remembering what his uncle told him when he was younger when dealing with attraction, clearly his uncle doesn't follow his own advice. Gandalf clears his throat awkwardly.

  
  


“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. Having two could be an advantage. Plus Smaug will not know their scents,” the Wizard throws out.

  
  


_But he will be able to smell the Dwarrows on us,_ Bilbo thinks bitterly. He has yet to come up with a way to stop that. Thorin transfers his gaze to Gandalf, the fact that the Wizard doesn't cringe despite being pinned by that look-- looking very uncomfortable to boot-- amuses Frodo far more than it should. Slowly Thorin nods with a grunt.

  
  


“Give them the contract.”

  
  


Bilbo takes it, muttering under his breath as he reads it. Frodo trusts his uncle to understand the contract and if it's okay to sign. Bilbo is, or was, the landlord of many Hobbits and favored nephew to the last Thain. He's splitting his attention between listening to Bilbo read under his breath and listening to Thorin talk to Gandalf. Part of Frodo wonders why he feels hurt when Thorin denies any responsibility for their safety. Then he hears Bilbo get to the various ways they can die, Dwarrows are morbidly thorough in their contracts, and Bofur pipes in. Frodo smiles grimly, Bofur is clearly a storyteller like Bilbo but he shrugs unphased.

  
  


“There are worse ways to go,” he says softly thinking of how his parents will drown... No! No, may drown. Their future isn't set in stone he can save them, hopefully. He thinks of nearly losing Sam to rushing waters when the blond refused to leave him. He thinks of the choking smoke of Mount Doom and the cold bite of a Morgul blade. There are far worse ways to die. Bilbo's eyes bore into him, knowing and sympathetic. The Dwarrows close enough to hear him give him looks of concern and he hunches up his shoulders.

  
  


“What? I read. Dragon's flame is quick like Master Bofur said. Slow deaths are worse in my book.”

  
  


It's quiet after that and the Dwarrows watch them sign the contract, Frodo knows that Bilbo will mother him for a bit before they go to bed for the night because of what he said. He wonders if the Dwarrows believed what he said and hopes they do.

  
  


Later that night after Bilbo shows the Dwarrows where they can sleep, he drags Frodo into the hallway next to the sitting room, a finger to his lips. Bilbo has his happy/sad/conflicted look on his face. Just as Frodo opens his mouth to talk the Dwarrows begin to sing.

  
  


“This song woke the Took in me... It's what made me leave everything behind,” Bilbo whispers lowly, eyes far away. Frodo listens to the song, the sadness, the longing and understands why it would be the fabled “push” out the door his uncle needed. They slide down the wall together and Frodo leans against Bilbo who pats his head.

  
  


“What had you so down earlier?”

  
  


“Thinking about Sam, my parents... Death,” Frodo says with a shiver. Bilbo hums.

  
  


“Dark things to be thinking about. But I can understand. They can be hard to fend off.”

  
  


Bilbo kisses Frodo's temple.

  
  


“Very hard uncle.”

  
  


“Maybe we can change a few things here in Hobbiton. We were sent back for a reason, and maybe after we do that we can fix a few smaller things,” Bilbo reasons.

  
  


“Yeah...”

 


	9. It Begins Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, if you began to read this story before today-- 5/13/2016-- there have been some major overhaul on the first eight chapters. I have rewritten them and used Grammarly to hopefully catch a lot of grammar mistakes. I recommend that you go reread them. Hope you enjoy this update!

Frodo wakes up first, which is a surprise as Bilbo tends to wake early. He enters the kitchen to start cooking breakfast, they need to finish off the food so it doesn't go bad. Humming under his breath Frodo enjoys the calm, Bag End is going to be empty and hopefully with the letters that will be sent out it will stay empty. Out the window, he spies Gaffer working on his garden. And for once when his mind goes to Sam he indulges it. Letting it frolic in what ifs. What if the Ring never came to him? What if he had been braver? What if he had told Sam the truth instead of hiding behind Respectability? Not that what ifs matter, his Sam will no longer be. But if there is a second Frodo happens maybe he can encourage that Frodo to take a chance.

  


The smell of food wakes the sleeping Dwarrows who stumble out into the kitchen.

  


“If it's cooked feel free to grab it. Figured it'd be best to finish off the perishables. What we don't eat that will keep we can pack,” he tells them. Bombur nods his head, he's the most awake Dwarf and if Frodo remembers right-- he does of course-- the Company's cook.

  


“Good idea.”

  


The two work together to finish breakfast, Frodo isn't the greatest cook in the world and is slightly awed by Bombur's skills.

  


“It smells wonderful in here,” Frodo hears Bilbo say from behind him. He looks over his shoulder and grins at the sight of a sensibly dressed Bilbo.

  


“About time you woke up,” Frodo teases Bilbo who chuckles.

  


“ _I_ was out delivering letters and wills to keep Bag End from being infested, hopefully,” he says stepping in to help. With three people cooking and packing up food it will go faster.

  


“Do you think Lobelia will still try to move in?” Frodo asks.

  


“I'm more afraid that she will booby trap the place. Bracgirdles-- married or not-- are notorious pranksters and Respectable to top it off! They'll smile and make nice whilst switching your sugar for salt!”

  


Bombur chuckles lowly at the two Hobbits. They will make this an interesting trip no doubt. Nori had already started a pool on whether of not they would actually come and Bombur is glad he placed his bet on them.

  


When it comes time to leave Bilbo makes a face at the ponies.

  


“I still loathe riding on them but... they are cute,” he mutters quickly mounting his pony. Frodo laughs at him doing the same.

  


“They aren't that bad cousin. Better than walking all the way there.”

  


Both, of course, are ignoring the money being exchanged over their heads-- though seeing Gandalf nearly losing his hat makes them bite their bottom lip-- and the dubious looks their Man made swords are getting. It's pleasant riding even if the other Hobbits around give them odd looks. They are almost out of Hobbiton proper when a shrill voice rings out.

  


“ _Bilbo Baggins_ just _where_ do you _think_ you are going!?”

  


Bilbo hunches down and tries to get his pony to start walking faster. The pony snorts and stays its easy going walk.

  


“Off on an Adventure Belia! You said it yourself, I'm not a proper Baggins!”

  


“You better come back or else I will go to the Garden and make you come back just to kill you myself!”

  


Frodo can't help it-- the scandalized looks on the other Hobbits face and the shocked faces of the Dwarrows spur him on-- he laughs long and loud, one hand grabbing his stomach. Bilbo ignores everything-- the tips of his ears go red-- before he answers Lobelia.

  


“Just keep your claws off my silverware and we have a deal!”

  


Lobelia's laughter follows them out. Frodo hopes that her outburst doesn't get her in trouble with Otho or her mother-in-law. All around him the Dwarrows speak in Khudzul and Frodo rolls his eyes. If a language is supposed to be secret you shouldn't speak in it in front of outsiders.

  


“ACHOO!!”

  


Frodo startles slightly and looks over at Bilbo who is scowling.

  


“Bless y-”

  


Bilbo sneezes three times in quick secession.

  


“Confound it!” he says before he sneezes again, “I had hoped my allergies were gone,” he groans as he pats his pockets. Frodo watches in fascination as a resigned look begins to grow on Bilbo's face.

  


“And of course, I forgot my handkerchief!”

  


A piece of brown fabric is tossed to Bilbo as Bofur calls out:

  


“Here use this!”

  


“Thank you Bofur.”

* * *

  


“ _So far so good, right?” Este asks as she watches the group of sixteen move off. Vaire nods absently._

  


“ _Very good,” Yavanna answers. Hopefully, with Frodo there Thorin and Bilbo will bond quicker this time._

  


“ _Hey, where is Nienna?” Vaire asks looking around._

  


“ _She said she had important business to take care of,” Este says thoughtfully, “I wonder what it is.”_


	10. The First Night

_Niena slips into the room, looking behind her before shutting the door softly. She doesn't want to be caught, doesn't want her secret out. There in the middle of the room is a dark cell, it has not only bars made of a metal no longer on Middle Earth but runes and sigils of all languages new and old. This cell holds a powerful person no one wants out._

 

_"You can't change the past Nienna."_

 

_A voice slithers from the shadows like a snake, it echoes around the mostly empty area. Nienna shakes her head in denial though the corner of lips twitches._

 

_"You don't know that," she says stepping closer to the sparkling bars, even from where she is she can feel the power thrumming through them. The voice deep within the cell chuckles. It's neither a dark nor a cruel nor even a malicious laugh but a sad one and it breaks the Queen's heart._

 

_"It's already been set in cloth. You'll only cause more pain to those you love," the voice rasps out._

 

_The voice is resigned and almost regretful as it speaks and the words are accompanied by the clanking of moving chains._

 

_"Nothing is ever unchangeable," Nienna argues grabbing the bars, bringing her face closer to them peering into the dark. She vibrates from the force of the magic but stays still just wanting a glimpse. An ebony hand reaches out, caressing the pale gray one ignoring the sparks that jump._

 

_"You can't save me any more than you can the Dwarrows."_

 

_"Don't say that!"_

 

_She jerks away, ripping her hand from the bars and begins to pace. Her face is scrunched up in pain._

 

_"Don't say that," she whispers._

 

_The voice sighs, bright red eyes flashing for the briefest of moments._

 

_"They aren't alone."_

 

_"What?"_

 

_She looks at the cell, hands clenching at her dress. With hesitant steps she goes back to her spot, this time resting her face on the bars._

 

_"What do you mean?"_

 

_The hand reaches out and stops centimeters from her face._

 

_"Your Hobbits. The ones you and the others are trying to save. They weren't the only ones sent back."_

 

_And just like that, the hand is pulled back and the chains are clanking and chinging._

 

_"M-"_

 

_"Leave me for the day. Please."_

 

_"I'll come back tomorrow."_

 

_When Nienna is no longer in sight the chains move again, a tall body coming into view. He looks at the door that Nienna left through sadly._

 

_"You always do."_

* * *

 

“How are you feeling?” Frodo asks his uncle as he dismounts his pony. Bilbo frowns at Frodo, his legs shaking just a tad as he rubs them tiredly.

 

“Like I rode a devil animal for miles, so perfectly fine,” the older Hobbit replies snarkily. Frodo laughs, covering his mouth and shaking his head at Bilbo. They help get camp set up, both ignoring the slight sting when they are shooed away for the most part. Bombur at least looks regretful that he doesn't have anything for them to help with.

 

“Well if we can't help with the camp then I guess I can teach you a few things about how to use a sword,” Bilbo says going to grab his. It's nothing like Sting, heavier and it feels wrong in his hands, but it is a weapon so it will do. Frodo hurries to grab his sword and both Hobbits find a clear spot. Neither of them notice how quiet it has gotten nor that Dwalin and Bifur are staring at them and Thorin is glancing at them from the corner of his eye.

 

“Now let's see if I can remember my Bounder training,” Bilbo mutters lowly, best to start at the beginning. He remembers everything the Company taught him but he doesn't want them asking too many questions. Gandalf frowns from his place by the fire.

 

“Your mother never told me you were a Bounder,” his voice takes on a hurt tone.

 

“That's because I didn't make it that far.”

 

“Why ever not? Tooks make great Bounders.”

 

“Grandma Laura found out.”

 

Frodo raises an eyebrow at how pale Gandalf gets.

 

“She did not approve?”

 

By now everyone is watching them.

 

“That is putting it lightly. Cousin Waldolanus was very lucky to have all the hair on his feet after she was done with him. Auntie Camelia barely let mother hear the end of it,” Bilbo says with a laugh. The only reason she stopped lording it over them was because his mother found something out about Otho. He gives a full body shake and begins to lead Frodo through the motions he was taught.

 

Fighting has never been something Bilbo enjoyed, he hated every minute, every second he spent fighting but it was necessary. Bilbo doesn't want Frodo to have to fight, hates that he might have to, so Bilbo compromises with himself and focuses on the defensive side of the training. For all their officialness Bounders worked under the Shirrifs and were not expected to fight, they are more of a keep-outsiders-out guard than an actual guard. That didn't stop the Tooks from teaching the basics though.

 

When dinner finishes they stop for the night and curl up together by the fire. Ori approaches them slowly, a book in one hand food in the other.

 

“May I sit with you?” the young Dwarf asks. Both Hobbits nod their head. It's quiet for a moment as the three of them eat and then Ori speaks up.

 

“Do... would you mind telling me more about Hobbits?”

 

Bilbo gives the redhead a smile.

 

“I don't mind at all. Hobbits are a very simple race though,” he says ignoring the snort that Thorin and Gandalf let out.

 

“Simple or not I would love to know more about you. I don't think I ever met a Hobbit before.”

 

“Hobbits rarely leave the Shire,” Frodo says, “so it's no surprise if you haven't.”

 

“Why don't they?”

 

Bilbo hums.

 

“There are many reasons Ori. Some are better than others but the most common reason is that adventures are normally dreadful things that make you late for dinner. They are dangerous and very Unrespectable. We tend to like routine things and security. Give us a warm fire, a fine pipe and a good meal and we're like as not to never leave,” Bilbo tells him at last. Ori looks star bound as he writes everything down, eagerly listening and spouting off question after question. Frodo smiles and grabs both his empty bowl and Bilbo's taking them to where he saw the others take them. After he is done rinsing the bowls in the small pot he dries them off and then stays back to watch Bilbo talk.

 

His uncle is animated in a way that Frodo doesn't think he's ever seen. Not even in the Garden. Fili and Kili, he notes with a chuckle are edging closer to Bilbo as he goes off on a tangent. Judging by the scrunch of his nose Frodo is willing to bet that it is a story dealing with the Sackville-Baggins. The young Hobbit doesn't know how this journey will pan out but he has high hopes for it.


	11. Little Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Melkor, it's been a while hasn't it? I am sorry for that. Real life sucks and sometimes the muses suck worse. But I finally got one to sit down and help me out. I'm just going to say that time moves strangely and balancing like three(?) different times (past, present, and future?) is harder than I ever imagined lol. Also I think I shall give you something that y'all wanted. But it will only be one! No more devious and shippy Valar are going to be devious and shippy.

_ Sam sighs as he steps off the boat. His aching joints don’t ache as much as they used to. And just looking at his hands show that they aren’t as wrinkly as they should be. Elves mill about him and he takes a moment to watch them. They are just as ethereal as he remembers. Beautiful and graceful and oh so tall. No one seems to notice that there is a Hobbit in their midst. The joys of only going up to a person’s hip. He looks around hoping to see Frodo. Surely his Frodo will be here to welcome him. _

 

_ But there is no Frodo, no Bilbo. There isn’t anyone who looks familiar. There is a sinking feeling in his chest as he explores. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just that he wants to find his Frodo.  _

 

_ “Oh! Oh dear,” a soft voice catches his attention and he looks up from his feet and has to keep looking up. She taller than any person, Man or Elf, that Sam has ever seen. She’s as beautiful as the Lady Galadriel. Her skin is fair and face childlike. Her hair flashes colors so fast that Sam thinks that maybe it could be a rainbow. It takes a moment for Sam to realize that he is looking upon a Vala, clumsily he bows. She touches his shoulder. _

 

_ “You do not need to bow, Child of the Green Hills. I am just Nessa,” she says and he swears she mutters ‘least of the Valar’ under her breath. _

 

_ “Samwise Gamgee, at your service Miss!” he squeaks. _

 

_ She laughs delighted. _

 

_ “I can see why Yavanna loves your kind so much.” _

 

_ “Begging your pardon ma’am, but have you seen a Frodo Baggins?” _

 

_ A thoughtful look crosses the young Vala’s face before she looks horrifyingly close to a Took with a prank in mind. _

 

_ “Oh, this is too good!” _

* * *

Frodo wakes to giggles. Honest to Valar giggles. They aren’t the normal pitch of Hobbits which further dragging him from his dreams. He opens his eyes a crack, years of living with Brandybucks and Tooks has taught him that giggling is never a good thing. There is something crawling on him. A deep sigh pushes out of his chest. A prank. Someone is trying to pull a prank on him and not a very good one. One hand comes up and gently touches what is on him, it’s a slimy mucusy thing. Clearly a frog. He cups it so that it doesn’t fall off when he sits up.

 

“ _ Hello little friend _ ,” he whispers lowly in Hobbitish. The frog croaks and hops away. The giggles have stopped and he spots the two princes. They look shocked that he acted so calmly. That is of course when Ori lets out a shriek. The poor red-haired Dwarf had the bad luck of having a large spider placed on his chest.  Dori is at Ori’s side before the shriek ends.

 

Bilbo is standing beside Bombur, a fond look on his face. Frodo wonders who he’s seeing. Is he seeing Fili and Kili or is he seeing Merry and Pippin? Maybe both? He drops the frog onto the ground and goes to his uncle’s side. They talk softly to each other ignoring the princes. All too soon the camp is packed up and they are off again. It’s been at least three days since that first night when everything was nice and calm. Not that it isn’t still calm but there is something in the air. He knows the story. Tonight Balin will tell Thorin’s story. Frodo can’t wait. And then a week later they will run into the trolls. Dwarrow calendars aren’t the same as Men or even Hobbits which explains so much to the younger Hobbit.

 

“So why weren’t you scared?” Kili asks some time after they were on the ponies. Frodo looks over at them and gives a smile.

 

“Hobbits are tricksy things and like their pranks. You have much to learn.”

 

Bilbo watches them with a smile. He had missed this. The good times. The times when the Dwarrows actually accepted him.

 

“Your cousin shouldn’t have said that,” a low voice speaks. It causes a shiver to go down Bilbo’s spine. Oh Yavanna’s sweet garden’s had he forgotten what that voice did to him. Thorin is watching the four youngest of the group. He looks like he’s lost in a memory. Probably is.

 

“It’s truth though. And will be good practice. At least if what my mother said is true,” Bilbo counters with a laugh. Thorin looks curious before something falls over his face and silence reigns again. The king encourages his pony to move away from Bilbo. The Dwarrows speak amongst themselves, using their ‘secret’ language that they really shouldn’t be talking in. He spots the look on Frodo’s face and groans.

 

_ “I say we should give them a show with conkers,”  _ Frodo says in a raised voice that catches the attention of Nori. Bilbo rolls his eyes.

 

“We don’t have any walnuts or acorns.”

 

The Dwarrows and his nephew may be up to speaking secrets where they shouldn’t be. At least not yet. Frodo looks a bit put out at that.

 

_ “We could find some?” _

 

“They wouldn’t be treated right and the company wouldn’t be properly impressed.”

 

Nori is closer now.

 

“What language are you talking in?” he asks. Bilbo gives him a look with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Oh ho, a secret language. Teach me? A thief always needs new tricks.”

 

_ “He could help you with your Khudzul,” _ Frodo points out. The thief must understand at least the name of his own language because he frowns.

 

“A trade of languages? Thorin would shave my beard if he found out.”

 

Oh Aule’s fiery pits he knows that look.

 

“I like it! Deal! Tonight after dinner.”

 

Things are changing but Bilbo can’t bring himself to care too much. Nori moves off. Another pony moves closer to his, and so goes his day.

 

They set up camp, the air is dark and cramped. It feels so different from the night from his memory. But then he didn’t have his nephew here and Frodo has dark memories of the places between Hobbiton and Rivendell. Fili and Kili try to lighten the load by passing Frodo a salt shaker, one of the ones from Bag End Bilbo notes with a huff, with its cap barely screwed on. Frodo the smart lad notices before he makes a mess and tosses it back to the lads who then make a mess of their own dinner. The laughs help, or would if not for the stern look of their majestic brooding leader.

 

Nori steals them away from cleans up by claiming that he needs to teach them thief things. Language lessons have barely begun before the sounds start up.

 

“What was that?” Ori asks alarmed.

 

And like a well played fiddle the past repeats itself. Watching it Bilbo wonders if the past can be changed. If he can save  _ them _ . When he looks back at Nori the Dwarf is giving him a sad look.

 

“That there is a look of loss. Who did you lose?”

 

Bilbo shrugs.

 

“He wasn’t mine to lose.”

 

“Bullshit,” Nori snorts before repeating the word in khudzul. Frodo says the word in Hobbitish for him. Bilbo shrugs again and Frodo presses into his side.

 

“I admired him, I adored him and sometimes I thought I had his friendship but-” he trails off, “he was not mine to lose.”

 

And that is all he will say on the matter. He ignores the stinging memories of a love just starting to bloom before madness rotted it before death snuffed it out. 


	12. Rain And Trolls

The rain falls in thick, unending rivets, soaking any who are unfortunate to be stuck unaided to the bone. Frodo glares up at the sky muttering darkly. He had thought the snow was bad but this? This is the worst. With the snow, he was able to hold and snuggle with Sam. He was able to use the excuse of sharing heat to be as close as he wanted to the Hobbit that held his heart. With this rain, he’s just soaked and lonely. He hates it. His uncle is far too upbeat and seems to be timing something.

 

“Can’t you do something about this deluge?” he hears Dori ask Gandalf. At his side Nori parrots his brother gaining a laugh from Fili and Kili.

 

“Are there any?” Bilbo asks drawing Frodo’s attention from the three Dwarrows that are quickly becoming his friends. His uncle has that Tookish look that Frodo knows all too well from Pippin. This must be what Bilbo was timing. So it’s no surprise when Gandalf walks right into a classic Hobbit snark attack.

 

“Is he a great Wizard or is he more like you?”

 

Nori chokes on his laugh and the Princes look amazed. Frodo, on the other hand, is left wondering if the Wizard understood the insult or if he let it roll off his shoulders. If it had been Frodo’s Gandalf, the White one, the one who fell in Moria, the one who came back, he’d know. But this is Bilbo’s Gandalf, the one that Frodo has only heard about in stories because just as the Battle changed Bilbo it changed Gandalf as well.

 

Bilbo pulls back from Gandalf, feeling happy to rile up his old friend again. That quip has always been one of his favorites. 

 

“And how are you four on this very wet day?” he asks his nephew and the three Dwarrows at his side. The fact that his nephew is bonding so well with the Dwarrows makes his heart swell. Maybe Frodo will find someone to take his mind off of Sam? Frodo glowers at him.

 

“I’m cold and wet and cold,” Frodo states his nose scrunching up, “I hate being cold.”

 

Frodo says it so casually but it brings up memories of the time in Rivendell, in the Gardens, when that cursed Morgul blade wound nagged at his nephew. Unbidden his eyes dart down to where the scar hides beneath his nephew's shirt.

 

“And there is no one to cuddle with,” Frodo continues, “Unless I feel like playing with fire.”

 

That draws a snort out Bilbo.

 

“Why do you say that?” he asks.

 

“Yeah you can snuggle with us!” protests Kili. Fili nods his head quickly, also wanting to know why they don't count as possible snuggle partners.

 

Frodo gives the Princes hard looks.

 

“If your uncle didn’t kill me you’d try to prank me. No thank you.”

 

“What about me?” Nori asks, batting his eyelashes. It's a ridiculous look on the Dwarf's face.

 

“Dori,” is Frodo's simple answer like it answers everything, "which also knocks Ori out of the cuddle buddy pool."

 

Bilbo and Nori both laugh at that. The oldest Ri brother is a force to be reckoned with. Especially when it comes to his brothers.

 

“What if I kept Dori busy?” Bilbo asks, shaking his head to try and dispel some of the water collecting in his hair. Nori wouldn’t have been his pick for his nephew but the Dwarf is a good man. Frodo looks at him thoughtfully.

 

“That could work. So long as I didn’t get poked with anything.”

 

It takes a while for the laughter to die down and on they go. When it comes close to time for them to make camp Frodo pulls Bilbo aside.

 

_ “You aren’t going to do anything… stupid are you?” _ he asks his uncle making sure Nori, who is picking up Hobbitish at a fast rate isn't near. Bilbo sniffs.

 

_ “I would never.” _

 

_ “Why do I not believe you?” _ Frodo asks warily, not liking the smile in response. He’s starting to understand Gandalf’s obsession with the phrase ‘Fool of a Took.’ With a deep breath, Frodo decides to trust his uncle. It can’t be too bad, he’s heard the story.

 

Gandalf storming off with a shouted ‘Myself, Master Baggins’ doesn’t improve the bad feeling that grows when Bofur sends Bilbo off with food for Fili and Kili. Logically Frodo knows that at one point they will end up in sacks. Logically he knows that Gandalf saves them before they are eaten.

 

Logic, though, flies out the window when he rushes to save his uncle from the Trolls. His uncle who was trying to talk to the Trolls because he got caught trying to save ponies. Oh Valar above and below he hates Trolls! This is worse than the time one stabbed him! How is this journey worse than the one he took himself to rid the world of the Ring?

 

“Drop yer arms or we rip ‘is off.”

 

It’s Bilbo’s fault, Frodo thinks dropping his sword without complaint, even before Thorin does.  _ He  _ isn’t about to risk his uncle’s life.

 

Fool of a Took echoes around in his head as he is shoved into a bag, as he is forced to listen to Trolls discuss how to cook them. Fool of a Wizard joins it when Gandalf doesn’t appear quickly to save them.

 

“It’ll take more than sage to make this lot edible!”

 

Frodo’s voice is part of the cacophony yelling at Bilbo at that.

 

_ “You said you wouldn’t do anything stupid!” _ he yells.

 

“You have to skin them!”

 

And the world goes upside down as he is picked up. Frodo glares at Bilbo all the way up as the Troll says that  _ he _ isn’t a Dwarf and should be good to eat whole and hale. 

 

“Not that one! He’s got… worms in his tubes!” Bilbo shouts jumping up and down in his own bag. Yavanna does Frodo hate Trolls. He’s dropped with a very girly ‘Yuck!’ coming from the Troll. Thankfully, Bombur breaks his fall or else he’d have broken bones on top of bruised dignity. The Dwarrows shout their denials until Thorin kicks Kili. Smooth move Thorin, Frodo snarks in his head.

 

“Dawn will take you all!”

 

Finally, Gandalf’s voice breaks through.

 

_ “About time,” _ Frodo grumbles. Patiently waiting to be unbagged. 

 

Bilbo knows he’s in trouble when Frodo simply dusts himself off and goes to check on Nori without looking his way. Technically he hadn’t done anything he hadn’t done the first time around, so that doesn’t count as stupid… Right?

* * *

 

_ “Oh Yavanna!” Nessa calls out as she walks into the Gardens. The sweet little Sam follows her closely. She reaches down and caresses his hair. Yes, she can very much understand why the sister of her brother’s wife loves Hobbits so. The Garden appears to be empty. _

 

_ “Don’t worry little Sam. My sister-in-law may be up to something but I’ll make sure she helps you,” she promises as she sits down on the grass. Samwise sits down next to her. And now to wait. _


End file.
